Mellita somnia, mi ocelle
by Scripta Lexicona
Summary: Zack was alone and cold in his dream...but it didn't stay that way. ZackSephCloud goodness.


AN: -inane giggles- For any of you Latin doobies out there who read the title and were like, "Mi ocelle? The hell?" I have it on good authority from one of my best friends who is working on her doctorate in Classics that it was a common term of endearment way back when.

Disclaimer: Yadda yadda, Nomura and Square are awesome except for their lack of BL, blah blah, not mine, mna mna

_For the choir._ I expect something nice in return! Like photos. :)

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**Mellita somnia, mi ocelle**

In his dream Zack is alone and he is cold. His eyes are closed and he finds himself unable to open them, something which happens occasionally and never fails to annoy. Despite this he knows the place he is in is dark. Experimentally, he prods the surface he is lying on. It gives beneath his fingertips and he feels ripples of fabric moving in small waves as he explores. Rolling from his back onto his side he reaches out farther, curious to know if there is an end to this … bed is it? Stretching out directly in front produces no results and so he reaches above his head, rolling onto his back again – maybe there are pillows or a headboard, something to help him figure out where he is.

As his frame lengthens, his abdomen tight, a warm hand suddenly slips into the gap beneath his shirt that his movements created. Zack tries to gasp but no noise comes out. His instincts are to move away from the touch but a deeper part of him shivers in recognition. It is a familiar touch and it is … loving, reverent. The hand moves with care, caressing Zack's skin, not demanding any response from him, merely enjoying and exploring. Its mate soon joins in, this one beginning in Zack's hair, gently running through the spikes and tickling the scalp below then moving to his face. Fingertips glide lightly over his cheeks, brush across his forehead and down his nose and even ever-so-carefully along his eyelashes, seeming to memorize every inch of his countenance. When those fingers move to his lips, they part involuntarily and Zack gives a sharp but silent inhale. They linger there for a moment, tracing the line of his mouth, venturing just slightly inside before retreating.

Now the hand moves down Zack's neck and he tilts his head back, defining the lines of his throat for the fingers to trail, dipping down into the hollow between his collarbones and then skimming over the ridges to his shoulders. Down his arms all the way to the tips of his fingers, the thumbs of the hands lightly brushing Zack's chest, and then the hands leave him. His brow furrows in disappointment and he reaches up, trying to call the hands back although he is still unable to speak.

Zack can _feel_ the person leaning over him smile, a wicked little smile at his pleading for the return of the touch. Wicked the person might be but not cruel – the hands return, back to his abdomen to slide around his waist and into the small of his back. Zack lifts his hips to give better access and the hands take advantage of the movement, sweeping down over his rear and taking his pants with them. They linger a moment, cupping and squeezing, but continue on their path to stroke the backs of his thighs and calves and then gently almost-tickle his feet, shucking his pants in the process.

Now Zack's heart is racing and he realizes he is fully aroused. Part of him wonders if he should feel odd about this, even if it is a dream. But … he _knows_ this person, heart and soul, and _wants_ whatever those hands will give him. If only he could open his damn eyes…. One of the hands cradles the back of his neck, drawing him upright and he allows it to lead him. The position has brought him closer to the other person and he can feel the heat of another body, hovering just beyond touch. Closer still, and now a set of lips lower to his, almost but _not quite_ touching. Zack's lips part and he gives a pleading little moan. Though still no sound issues forth he feels the mouth smile as though the person heard him anyway; and then they softly descend.

The first kiss is the barest of brushings, tantalizing and teasing, making Zack positively _ache_ for more. They dip again, firmer but still teasing, wisping over his own lips with little strokes, never quite closing in a proper kiss. Zack feels his face take on an expression of exquisite pain as he endures the torment and again those wicked lips smile. Finally they take pity on him, suddenly swooping down into a fiery kiss as an arm wraps around his back, pressing him up.

Zack lets out another silent moan and arches up against the other person – the other man – grasping broad shoulders, his fingers twining in threads of silk. The kiss is deep and demanding but also coaxing, encouraging Zack to push back and battle with his own tongue. It drives the need in Zack even higher and he wraps his arms around a strong neck, hands burying into that fine hair, _craving_ contact as he presses even closer to a warm firm chest.

The lips pull away, dip for one more brief kiss and then the other body moves away. Zack is about to protest but those hands are pulling him forward and gently turning him – now he is on his knees, the unseen man at his back. He raises Zack's arms above his head then trails those hands down to the hem of Zack's shirt and begin pulling it up.

Zack jerks a little in surprise as a second pair of hands begin to caress his abdomen, following after the others. These hands are familiar like the others, but small and softer. They shyly explore Zack's chest as it is revealed, dancing lightly over his nipples and making him gasp. Soon lips join the hands, raining soft open kisses on every inch of his chest, down to his navel and up to his neck where tufts of hair tickle the sides of his face.

His shirt is now off and the man behind him is laying his own kisses from shoulder to shoulder and down his back while the hands run along his sides, down his thighs and back up again. Being stripped of his sight and, to an extent, sound as well has seemed to sharpen the sensations in Zack's body, making every nerve hyper-sensitive, sparkling with electricity wherever he is touched. It has made him desperate to know more about this new participant and he reaches out and pulls … _him_ close, seeking and finding soft, compliant lips. Very different from the other's but sweet and eager and Zack revels in it as he revels in the feeling of being nude between two hot and equally nude bodies, touching and stroking and kissing and loving.

The man behind gently but insistently breaks the kiss, pushing the other man down onto his back in front of Zack. Then he takes Zack's hand and places it on the smaller man's chest, silently encouraging him to explore and Zack needs no further urging. Like the hands that had worshiped him before he now bestows the same gift, going over every inch of the body bending wantonly but unashamedly beneath him. In his mind's eye – _does that even make sense?_ – he can see it and it's the most beautiful sight he's ever beheld. And he wants to give more, wants to "see" that body even further enthralled.

These thoughts in mind, Zack lowers himself between the spread legs and takes the man's arousal in his hand and then his mouth. He can feel the quivers running through the other's body as his tongue and lips swirl over the soft head and then close down on the smooth shaft applying light suction. Though twisting and arching under the pleasurable assault, the hips beneath him keep as still as possible so as not to choke him and Zack smiles. This person is well trained.

Deciding to increase the tension, he raises a hand to the other man's mouth, slipping some fingers inside. The man seems to know exactly what is expected and sucks and swirls his tongue around them, mimicking Zack's own movements. When they are well slicked Zack draws them out and places them instead in the man's tight opening, first one then two. The man's writhing increases and Zack's smiles again as he locates and gently applies pressure to that spot inside that heightens intensity almost unbearably.

The other man doesn't last long under the twin assault of Zack's mouth and hands and soon releases into his throat. Zack keeps his mouth lightly moving until it is finished then pulls away with one final long lick. He can feel the after-tremors running through the thighs under his hands, feel the sheen of sweat that has formed, and grins wickedly.

Until he is suddenly grasped from behind, one hand curling around his own throbbing erection to begin stroking it, the other spread across his chest, pulling him back so he feel the solid form at his back and the erection pushing against the cleft between his cheeks. Apparently the first man was content to watch but has now decided to participate again and Zack needs very little encouragement to give up to his ministrations. He curves and rubs himself against the firm body, offering himself for whatever the other man wants to give. After the display he was just party to, Zack is yearning for a release of his own.

The hand on his chest leaves him for a moment to return instead at his entrance. Just as he did for the other man, first one finger then two slip inside Zack and then a third, stretching him open. It's a little uncomfortable but it's a familiar discomfort and – _ah!_ There! The fingers find that spot in Zack and that combined with the hand still slowly stroking him leave him writhing and begging wordlessly for more. He feels the chest behind him shudder as though the person is softly laughing and then he is moved. The fingers leave and he is lifted up and back then down, slowly impaled on the organ he'd felt at his back. He is left essentially sitting in the other man's lap, back pressed tightly to chest.

Then the man begins to move, long, slow, _powerful_ thrusts and if Zack's eyes hadn't already been closed they would be now as his head falls back, mouth open and crying silently. The feeling is so overwhelming he is sure he will go mad from it, caught up forever in the indescribable sensations. And then, impossibly, it intensifies. The second man has risen and kneeled before the two undulating figures to return the favor Zack earlier bestowed. As those soft lips close around him, that playful little tongue doing all manner of sinfully delightful things, Zack really does lose it, mind blanking out in a flash of starburst.

When his consciousness comes back to him – _how did he misplace it in the first place?_ – he feels one more powerful thrust under him followed by the man's climax. Slowly they all come down from their shared rapture, arms entwined, bodies held close and tight. The man gently lifts Zack off and lays him down on the bed, pulling the other man down as well and then following them both. Zack tiredly – _tired in a dream?_ – rolls onto his stomach, slinging an arm across one man's chest. The second man curls up on Zack's other side, arm clutching Zack's and one leg thrown over his thigh. And then, slowly, sweetly, the dream fades away.

xXx

Zack woke unusually early the next morning. He groaned and shifted restlessly, his sleeping position not one he was accustomed to. And there were warm solid objects pressed on either side of him. His only half-aware mind toyed with that for a little before his eyes snapped open.

"The hell?" he muttered blearily. He was on his stomach, one arm draped across Sephiroth. Turning his head to the other side he saw Cloud nestled against him, a hand curled around his bicep and a leg twined with one of his own. And they were all three stark naked. Zack was very confused. It wasn't that he'd woken up sandwiched between naked Sephiroth and naked Cloud, it was that _usually_ when he woke up sandwiched between naked Sephiroth and naked Cloud it was because good times had been had the night before. And he had no recollection of such good times. Except….

"Did we have sex last night?" His voice was a bit rough and a little slurrily given that he was still in the process of waking up but the other two didn't seem to have a problem understanding, rousing at his agitated movements. Sephiroth woke in his usual manner which involved merely opening his eyes while Cloud sighed and stretched and rubbed his bright blue orbs with a balled little fist.

"You have to be joking," Sephiroth spoke incredulously.

"See?" Cloud let out an impressive yawn. "I told you he was asleep."

"I can't believe that even _Zack_ wouldn't wake up _at all_ during that!"

Cloud grinned cockily over Zack's shoulders at the silver-haired man. "You know what thaaaat means. You lost. You owe me a cake." Sephiroth raised a brow and gave a very deliberate exhale.

"Wait a minute!" Zack had been listening to this still in the midst of Somnus's haze but gaining greater lucidity with each word. "Are you trying to tell me you two had sex with me _in my sleep_??" They both stared at him as if to ask what on Gaia was wrong with him.

"It wasn't like you didn't participate, too," Cloud stated pointedly. "I was almost sure you'd woken up at that one point."

Sephiroth shrugged. "You were out like a light when we got here and nothing else we tried seemed to be rousing you, so we thought that might. But apparently not." He fixed the dark-haired man with mild glare, as if he'd purposely caused Sephiroth to lose a bet to Cloud. Zack rubbed his forehead as the rest of last night came back to him. They'd all been sent out on separate missions, but due back the same night so they agreed to rendezvous here. Zack had been the first to arrive – he'd dropped his gear, changed out of his uniform into casual pants and a T-shirt and then crashed on the bed, exhausted. And obviously he'd stayed crashed despite his lovers' best efforts. Wow.

"Wow," he voiced aloud. "That _is_ kind of sad. Sorry, guys. Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"S'okay," Cloud reassured him, leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek. Zack smiled and turned so he could capture the blond's lips in a languid but thorough good-morning kiss. Then he turned and offered the same to Sephiroth who took it with his customary smirk.

"I suppose I should have realized when you were actually quiet," the silver-haired man commented as Zack drew away. Zack blinked at him, surprised at the somewhat catty tone.

"Are you _that_ pissed that you have to buy Cloud a cake?" Although he suspected the man was equally annoyed that Zack had _slept_ through sex with _Sephiroth_. Scoff. Imagine.

"He doesn't have to buy it, he has to _bake_ it," Cloud put in gleefully. Only through enormous strength of will and a great sense of self-preservation did Zack avoid bursting out laughing. _Bake me a cake, beetch…._

"Just try not to burn anything, Seph," he spoke with exaggerated solemnity and was patently ignored. Indulging in a brief chuckle, Zack rolled onto his back and resettled himself, pulling Cloud closer and resting his head on Sephiroth's shoulder. "Seriously though, any time you two want to do that again, I will be glad to accept."

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Originally written 31 May '08


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